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New Fiction: A New Respect, part 2 (mf/ff, nc)

clean_kitchen

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A New Respect
by clean_kitchen

This is the conclusion to the story. You can read the first part here:

http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=48802

. . .

Some people function well under pressure. I'm not one of those people. I tossed my sister in the closet, locked the door behind her, and then found the most obvious hiding place ever--under my mom's bed. I knew it was stupid the minute I did it, but it was too late to do anything else.

I heard my mom scream and there was a struggle.

"Let me go!" she yelled as the intruders brought her into the room. Oh, great, I thought, they would find me for sure.

I could see the intruders and my mom through the big mirror on my mom's dresser. I peeked out from under the bed skirt so that they wouldn't see me in the reflection.

"Go check the house for those kids," the man told the woman. "They didn't come down past us, so they're upstairs if they're still here." The woman left the room.

"Now for you," the man said to my mom throwing her on the bed.

I almost grunted as the bed pressed down on me. I was glad the box spring was strong. I was pinned in place, but I could still breathe and I could still see what was happening in the mirror.

The man tied my mom to the bed the same way he did me and my sister, using some nylons he found in a drawer. Like us, my mom was wearing shorts and a tank top and no shoes.

In spite of myself I realized how attractive my mom still was. I hadn't really paid any attention to her for a long time, but I she is a pretty woman. I recalled that she had been homecoming queen in high school and my sister and I got no lack of attention from boys, so I guess it shouldn't surprise me that my mom was attractive.

I was brought back to my senses when the woman returned to the room.

"I can't find them anywhere," she reported, "but all the windows are shut and it doesn't look like anyone has opened them for a long time."

"They're still here, aren't they?" the man said to my mom.

"Are you kidding?" she bluffed--the man hadn't bothered to gag her, "They're long gone and they took the key with them."

"We'll see about that," the man said, matter-of-factly.

I watched as the woman approached my mom.

"Hello, girls!" the man called out, "I know you're in here! Remember what we did to you? We're going to do that to your mommy unless you come out and give us the key!"

I had already known what would happen to my mom. I just hoped that my sister would stay quiet. The door to the closet locks from the outside, and I stuffed her between a bunch of heavy coats. The closet was tightly packed, so I was pretty sure no one would hear her. I wondered, in fact, whether she could even hear what was happening out here.

I, of course, could have let my mom avoid the whole ordeal by just speaking up, but she had sacrificed herself for us. I thought she would want me to stay quiet. And anyway, I had no desire to get tickled again.

The whole situation depended on me. They would tickle my mom until either they found me or I gave myself up. I wondered if my mom was ticklish and what it would be like to see her get it. Would I give in? Would she?

"What did you do to them?" my mom asked.

"This," replied the woman.

I about went deaf from my mom's screech as the woman's nails hit her feet. That answered the ticklishness question.

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OHMYGAWDOHMYGAWD! NOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I could see the woman skittering her fingers all over my mom's feet, and I could see my mom thrashing on the bed. What's more, I could feel her bucking, the underside of the mattress pressing down on me as she bounced. She was going nuts!

NONONONONONONONOOOOOOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! STOP! AAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I really did feel sorry for my mom. Those fingers had been on my feet not to long ago, and ti looked like it was as bad for Mom as it had been for me and Anne.

The woman stopped. My mom panted and giggled on the bed. I wondered if I had looked like that after they tickled me.

"Having fun?" the man teased.

"Oh, please ... no more ... no more ...," she pleaded.

"Hear that, girls!" the man called out. "Your mommy wants us to stop, but it's all up to you! You can stop this right now!"

My mom turned her head and somehow caught my eye in the mirror. A wave of realization came over her face and gave way to a new resolve. She surprised all of us when she cried out, "No, girls! Don't do it! Bring it on, you freaks!"

"Very well" replied the man loudly, "this is your fault, girls!"

With that, the woman straddled my mom's hips. She pulled the tank top up behind her head, leaving only her bra as protection.

"This is the last chance you're going to have for a while," taunted the woman as her nails descended on my mom's sides.

AAAAAAHHHHHHH! NONONONONONONONOOOOOOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! STOP! AAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

My mom was once again hysterical. The woman's fingers glided up and down her sides, from her armpits to just below her belly button and back again. The woman's hands flew ferociously all over my mom's upper body.

I once again felt sorry for my mom, but my resolve was strengthened by hers. If she was determined to hide us, then I was determined to remain silent.

Mom squealed and cackled as the woman's nails danced all over her outstretched torso. She was trying to beg, but only parts of words came out. Most of it came out as incoherent babbling mixed in with the laughter.

The woman stopped, allowing Mom to catch her breath.

"Oh my ... Oh my ...," she panted. "Please ... don't tickle ..."

"No dice," replied the woman who eagerly resumed her work.

Mom screamed and resumed her hysteria. She lapsed into silent gasps as the woman's fingers lingered under her arms and then cackled and shrieked as the fingers danced back down her ribs and just under her belly button.

I squeezed my own arms close to my sides in sympathy as the woman totally ravaged my mom. I couldn't believe Mom was letting the woman tickle her like this. She knew where I was and could easily give me and the money up. I had told the man about the key to stop the tickling. Would Mom do the same? I was both sorry for her and scared that I might be in her place.

The room became relatively silent again as the woman let Mom rest. She panted and giggled, exhausted from the workout the woman just gave her.

The man walked over to the dresser with the mirror and began looking through the jewelry box on the corner. Oh, crap, I thought as I tried to keep as still as possible. Mom's weight on the bed was enough to pin me in place, so there was nothing I could do if he saw my reflection in the mirror.

My mom must have realized this as well.

"Hey!" she yelled at the intruders. "I thought you said you were going to tickle me! I've been tickled worse by sandpaper!"

That seemed an odd thing to say. Sandpaper? Not that I could have come up with anything better under the circumstances. The woman obviously understood the challenge. She turned around, straddling Mom's hips but now facing away from her. She said nothing, choosing instead to let her fingers talk for her.

Mom went crazy. Her eyes got huge. I had been surprised at how bad it was when the woman tickled my legs, and it looked like Mom was just as surprised.

The woman dragged her nails up and down Mom's bare legs from her ankles to her thighs. Over and under and all around, fingers wriggling to make the most of every stroke.

The man hadn't moved from the dresser, and that's when Mom did something I'll never forget.

AAHHHAHHAHAHAHA ... IS THAT ... EEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAH ... ALL YOU GOT? ... WHEN DOES ... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ... THE TICKLING START? AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I couldn't believe my ears. Not only was Mom taking the tickling instead of telling them where I was, but even in the middle of what must have been awful tickling she was egging them on to keep me safe.

A tear escaped my eye, not because of my Mom's torture but for her determination to protect me. After all the terrible things I said to her and about her, she was willing to endure this for me and my sister. For the first time in years I wanted to give her a hug.

I'd have to wait.

"That's it!" the man snarled. "This isn't about the girls anymore, it's about tickling you. You should be careful what you ask for."

The woman once again turned around to face my mom and renewed her attack on Mom's torso. My mom continued uninterrupted in hysterics, which reached a whole new level when the man, who had walked to the foot of the bed, bent the toes back on one of her feet and tickled her sole.

I don't even want to think about what it must have been like to be tickled like that. But even then, in brief moments between complete hysteria Mom gathered her strength and continued to taunt them, knowing the result would be more intense tickling.

My whole attitude toward my mom changed as I was forced to watch the intruders tickle her completely silly. It didn't matter how this turned out, even if she finally relented and told them where to find me. Just knowing that she would do this for me gave me a new respect for her as a mother. We had our differences, but when it mattered she would go through hell for me and Anne.

THUD!

I snapped back to the here and now when I found myself staring face to face with the woman. One of the improvised ropes had loosened, freeing one of Mom's arms. In the blind hysteria of the tickling, she had managed to throw the woman to the floor. The other three ropes holding my mom were intact and the room was still filled with her laughter as the man continued his ferocious foot tickling.

I know I must have looked like a deer in headlights. All I could do was stare as I instinctively struggled to get out from under the bed. My mom was now able to fop around on the bed since one arm was free, which only pinned my more tightly.

The woman, too, looked shocked at first, but then an evil smirk entered her face as she realized I was pinned. I continued to struggle, knowing at least generally what she had in mind.

The woman crawled to the foot of the bed where the man was still tickling my mom. I felt a tug on my ankles, and I slid down about a foot. I was still pinned, but now my feet extended out from the bed. I couldn't see what was happening, but I felt pressure on my ankles like someone was sitting on them. In any case, I couldn't move my feet.

I was freaking out again. I knew what was coming. I could see the man tickling Mom's feet and I knew that I would soon look just like my mom.

Just like my mom. Earlier I had given up my secret under the tickling, but my mom hadn't given up hers. As weird as it seems, I suddenly wanted to prove myself, to share in Mom's ordeal. I knew it would tickle like crap, and I had no idea how long it would last. I was still scared, but my new respect for Mom urged me to mimic her bravery.

"You don't scare me!" I shouted a lot more confidently than I felt. "Do it! Tickle me! Let me have it, b****!"

Believe me when I tell you that's exactly what she did. Those claws of hers scribbled all over my feet, leaving me screaming and pounding the floor under the bed. It was every bit as bad as I thought it would be, but part of me relished it. I just let go and took in every ticklish stroke, catching an occasional glance of my mom, still enduring her own torture, through my tears of laughter.

I lost track of everything around me. I have no idea if they tickled us for five minutes or five hours. It felt more like five hours, but no one has ever been able to tell me for sure. All I know is that I got the tickling of my life, and so did Mom.

At some point I heard people storm into the room and the tickling stopped, though it was several minutes before I regained my senses. I felt the weight of the bed lift off of me and someone pulled me out from under the bed. It was a female police officer.

"You poor dear," she said, sympathetically. "You're safe now."

I looked and saw my mom sitting on the bed, resting back on her arms, exhausted. A second police officer was helping Anne out of the closet. I was glad she was safe and that the intruders hadn't found her. I wondered if she knew what happened out here in the bedroom. We'd talk about it later, I was sure.

Actually, we've talked about a lot of things since then. My sister and I have traded insults for what I guess is real sister talk. My mom and I are closer than we've ever been. I'm not saying it's perfect. We still disagree like mothers and daughters do, but I will never again question her commitment to us. When she needed to protect us, she did what she had to do. I'll never forget that.
 
very good story !!!

You have a nice style very well put together I hope you write more!!
 
Amazing, this story is simply amazing

It's a devious ticle tortue story, but it also has a touching,

meaningful side. Great Job :cool:
 
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